


Take my breath away

by Proooverflowers



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Flirty Freddie Mercury, Gay Panic, M/M, Shy John Deacon, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-02 23:24:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21169598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proooverflowers/pseuds/Proooverflowers
Summary: Collective (?) one shots or rambles of queen smoking. But focused on deacury of course 😔





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> idk whaT THIS EVEN IS KDJSFJ,,- but enjoy!! There needs to be more deacury fics anyway, so here I am adding to the mess 🤡

"Fag?"

  
  
John flinched

"A what?"

"A_ cigarette_, darling. Do you want one?"

The older man stood above him, holding a slim roll up, pinched between his inky black polished fingers.

  
  
A strange sense of relief rushed through John's body.

"_O-oh_ right, right. Yes, thanks Fred."

  
The raven haired man blew air through his nose in amusement as the flustered boy that sat on the curb below him plucked the cig from his hand, almost like he would with a bass string.

  
  
Freddie joined John on the floor, landing on his arse with a bump and dramatically groaned as he dug in his leather jacket pocket for a lighter.

  
  
"_Really_ darling, must we sit on the curb like beggars? It's rather uncomfortable, I _must_ say"

  
  
The bassist sighed, and placed the flimsy roll up delicately between his slightly pouting lips.

Freddie struck the flint wheel of the lighter and held it in front of John, and watched attentively, both mens face slightly aglow with a warm yellow. John leaned in, holding his brunette locks behind his palms to avoid any frazzling of his already dead ends via flame.

He inhaled as the flame stroked the tip of his cigarette, and pulled away, using two bejeweled fingers to capture the cig before his clumsiness decided to kick in and drop it.

  
Freddie let go of the lighter and sparked up his own, head tilted as he roughly inhaled his own smoke as if his life depended on it.

The difference between he and John was, John seemed to almost sip his cigarettes softly, as if the smoke he was drinking into his lungs was fine wine.

  
A smooth trail of smoke poured from the brunettes slightly parted mouth, like water would from a fountain.

_Perhaps a rather exquisite one the queen would own in her more than modest gardens at Buckingham palace_, Freddie most helpfully noted in his head.

  
  
"Bloody _awful_ these aren't they" He quipped, earning a lopsided smirk from John.

  
  
"Bet you anything Rog rolled these" he rolled the cigarette between two fingers and snorted, "they're absolutely shite."

  
  
Freddie laughed loudly and slapped John's back, causing him to also cave into hysterics.

  
"I feel bad for him. but also for myself because these are nothing compared to your menthols, Fred" The bassist said, still trying to regain his breath from laughing too hard.

  
"Oh I know darling, menthols are much more classier than that amber leaf shit Roger insists is cheaper" Freddie rolled his eyes and took another painful drag.

  
  
John followed suit and took a drag himself, squinting in disgust.

_God, they really were bad_.

  
"Although, deaky"

  
  
John's ears pricked up at mention of his name.

  
"I wasn't aware you preferred menthols, was it you then who's been pinching all of mine?"

  
  
Freddie smirked rather devilishly and John bit back a grin.

  
"I can neither confirm nor deny"


	2. Chapter 2

"We all smell like a bloody ash tray, for fucks sake, Fred."

  
Roger groaned and pressed his nose into his coat. _"I stink!"_

  
Freddie tutted and waved his hand loosely, towards Roger and his front door.

  
  
"Last time I checked darling, you smoke like a bloody chimney! and also that _dreadful_ roll up shit John and I despise."

  
  
Said man was sat comfortably on Freddie's couch cross legged, a mug of tea cupped safely into his hands.

  
  
"There's no fucking _way_ Deaky likes that minty shit you smoke, Fred, No one does."

  
  
Roger flapped his arms dramatically, both he and Freddie spitting more nonsense curse words between each other while the drummer readied himself for one of his many dates.

  
  
"Oh hurry up and piss off for a quick shag, _blondie_, you're getting irritable"

  
"I'll show you irritable, Farrokh"

  
  
"Excuse me, _bitch_"

  
  
John hummed in amusement at Roger and Freddie's bickering.

He placed his now empty mug down and reached over to the table, grabbing a half full packet of extra strong mints. He turned around from his seat and held the sweets out to the drummer.  


"Fancy a mint, Rog? Y'know since you _stink_ and all."

  
Freddie guffawed and slapped his knee.

  
  
The blonde man squinted his eyes darkly at the bassist, who was now holding in a laugh so desperately his shoulders began trembling.

  
  
Roger snatched a single mint from John's open palm and threw it into his mouth. "Fuck you Deaky, I thought you were on my side"

  
John chuckled and retracted his palm, shaking his head. "I don't take sides"

  
The lead singer chimed in and smiled wickedly.

  
  
"That's what Roger said about his women but have you noticed they all have boyfriends?"

  
This caught both John by surprise, and caused him to keel over into a loud belly laugh.

  
Roger sucked on the mint harshy and threw up a middle finger.

  
  
"Suck a cock, Fred"

  
  
"_Gladly_, dear"

  
  
And with a grimace, the drummer left for his '_date_'.

  
  
John blotted tears away from the corners of his eyes with his sleeve, his voice slightly hoarse from laughing at Roger's misery.

  
  
"I think that was a bit _too_ mean, Freddie"

  
  
The lead singer tapped loose ash from his cigarette and twirled it between his fingers. He smiled.

  
  
"Oh nonsense, dear, he'll be just fine"

  
  
He pushed the empty packet of cigs, bar one, over to John, who tucked his bell bottom clad legs back into a comfortable position on the couch.

  
  
"Oh I'm alright Freddie, I think Rog may be right"

  
  
The raven haired man rolled his eyes and stubbed out his cig roughly.

  
  
"He's a bloody hypocrite darling, don't listen to that tart." he turned and snickered at the sight of the brunette pulling at his burgundy roll neck jumper to try smell the embedded scent of nicotine.

  
  
The singer moved from his rather regal sitting position in his seat, and past the littered coffee table to the couch where John was sat, and still _very_ invested in finding the smoke smell attached to his poor jumper.

  
With a polished finger, Freddie plucked a circular mint from its packet and regained the bassists attention by softly pinching and turning up his chin to look at him.

  
Which was very unexpected to say the least, as John's cheeks positively lit up, like a heat lamp. Freddie simpered.

  
  
"Fancy a mint, dear? Since you _stink_ and all."

  
  
John's own words echoed back to him in a whisper. He swallowed thickly.

  
  
Freddie pushed the sweet against John's mouth with a sweep of his thumb, and the brunette softly parted his lips and accepted the mint into his mouth. All while holding a very sudden and intense eye contact with the singers brown marble like eyes.

Freddie retracted his hand from John's lips as if they were scorching.

  
  
John felt very hot, and averted his vision from the singer's flirtatious smirk.

  
"_T-Thanks_"


End file.
